Sun crackles in the blue reserved hill.
One lone leaf glitters eerily of chill.
The sky looks grosgrain from my window sill.
The vastness of hill country in a leaf
Dances beyond the span of all belief,
The splendor of its memory is brief.
You may not want to hear it when I say
That earth is in the twilight of its day.
The depth of it is drinking us away.
A cloud is distant parchment in the sky.
Today's boat is a shadow sailing by.
Minutes will never catch it, though they try.
I wish it could be ever sunset, Friend,
That fey instant before all colors blend,
Dusk held at the crescendo of its end.
Title poem of my book, Ever Sunset, Skylark Publications, India
sandra, i really love these lines; That earth is in the twilight of its day. The depth of it is drinking us away.
Good poem. I was especially touched by the lines: 'You may not want to hear it when I say That earth is in the twilight of its day. The depth of it is drinking us away.' What follows sunset but darkness. In times past, the darkness (literally and figuratively) was followed by sunrise and renewal. Now humanity, by way of heavy machinery and the pouring of concrete, fueled by urban sprall, is destroying the land, plants, insects, and other animals on an unprescedented scale. One day we will wake up and find that only parking lots are the new vast areas for which the eye can unify on a large scale with the horizon.
If only every day could be as you described it! But for now, I feel our purposes as artists of the pen are to capture every day and every feeling it brings with its sun and clouds. An inspiring poem!
Sandra, it's thin poem with Remarkable metaphors and fine rhymes... but sad song of a sunset, i like very much..10... All kind, Tsira
This is an outstanding poem with a classic feel. Well penned.10 here. Jim
This is so lovely Sandra, one to read again and again, wonderful imagery, wonderful words, thanks 10 Lynda xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Haunting imagery and a lovely rounded ending: I wish it could be ever sunset, Friend, That fey instant before all colors blend, Dusk held at the crescendo of its end. Especially that fey instant before all colours blend. Best regards, Patrick